The Brilliance of Fireflies

by Leslie Hauser

  “What about you?”

  She swallows a drink of water. “I don’t know. I guess I should be mad at him, but I just... I just miss him.” I pierce a stray macaroni with my fork. I know exactly how she feels. “After he left,” she goes on, “I tried to keep the restaurant thing going with my mom, but she wasn’t interested. My dad and I were the ones who had all the special traditions. So as soon as I got my license, I starting coming to LA in search of interesting people and things off the beaten path.”

  “That’s cool,” I say.

  “Kind of like what you’re doing.” She eats another leftover macaroni off the plate.

  “Yeah.” It’s clear now why it’s been so easy to be friends with Mari.

  She pushes the chocolate pie plate away, and I check my phone. It’s 4:00 p.m. I really need to get home, and we still have to swing by the packet pickup for my race tomorrow. Grandma has been alone for three hours already, and while I’m sure she’s fine, I should get back. I tell Mari, and we head out the door.

  “Hey Grandma,” I call in the house as I walk inside. I expect to see her sitting in her armchair reading, but she’s not there. The house smells like garlic and spices, so I continue into the kitchen to see what she’s cooking. She’s not there either. Bowls and measuring cups and food are strewn all over the counter. Piles of diced garlic and chopped onions wait on a cutting board with a knife resting right next to it. The pantry door is open, and a raw chicken sits in the sink.

  Maybe she’s just in the bathroom. I walk to her room and peek in, but there’s no sign of her. I step inside and the bathroom door is wide open and it’s dark inside. My heartbeat quickens, and I feel dizzy. I walk back to the living room and try to focus. That’s it. Maybe she’s out back cutting some fresh herbs.

  I sprint to the back, but she’s not there either. I walk in circles around the patio, short of breath and light-headed. Where could she be? The car is in the driveway, so thankfully she hasn’t driven somewhere. Maybe Cherise is still here, and they went on an errand, something for the dinner. I dart inside and check the hall closet for Cherise’s bag, but it’s not there. She never takes more than her purse when she goes out with Grandma.

  “Grandma?” I cry out as I race up and down the hall. I’m sweating and my pounding heart forces me to sit for a moment in the living room. But I’m up almost instantly, pacing back and forth. Where could she be? What do I do? These thoughts play in my mind on repeat. I am in full panic mode.

  I run through the house one more time, as if I somehow missed her. But she’s not in any of the rooms. I check out back again, and this time I also look in the garage. I’ve circled the house twice, and there’s no sign of her. Before I consciously know what I’m doing, my fingers are texting Ryan. I tell him my grandma is missing and I’m freaking out and what do I do?

  There is no response, and I figure he’s busy. I circle the house one more time because I can’t think clearly. I can only keep moving. When I emerge from the side of the house, Ryan’s Jeep is in the driveway and he’s sprinting to the front porch.

  “Ryan!” It’s more of an exhale of relief than an acknowledgment of his presence.

  He rushes over and wraps his arms around me.

  “I came home from downtown with Mari, and she wasn’t here. I’ve looked everywhere. She’s not here. I don’t know where she is.” I let it all spill out into his shoulder.

  He lets go but holds my hands. “It’s okay. We’ll find her.” He pauses then says, “Could she have driven anywhere?”

  “No. The car is here.” I point to it out on the street.

  “Okay, could she be with her friends?”

  “No. She always leaves a note. They would never take her anywhere and not leave a note for me. Plus, it looks like she was in the middle of cooking.” I motion for him to come inside. I toss my phone on the armchair and lead him to the kitchen like I’m showing him a crime scene. “See?”

  He scans the room and lines of worry appear on his face.

  I read them. “I know, right? It’s weird.”

  His nose crinkles. “Could the nurse have taken her somewhere?” he suggests.

  I shake my head forcefully. “No. Her stuff isn’t here. She’d never take all her stuff with her to run an errand. Plus, they wouldn’t go without leaving a note.”

  “Maybe it was just for something quick, and they figured they’d be back before you came home. Same with her friends.” He raises his shoulders in a half shrug.

  “No!” I’m even more adamant. “We’ve been through too much. Grandma would never go somewhere without leaving a note.”

  The uncertainty of the situation sends my mind stumbling into all sorts of scenarios. “What if she was taken? What if someone came to rob the house and kidnapped her? Or killed her?” My voice rises with each thought.

  Ryan leads me to the living room and sits me down. But I pop back up. “Or what if she’s wandering around somewhere? We have to do something.”

  Something I’ve said turns a switch in Ryan’s mind and it shows in his eyes. “I know, I’ll start walking the neighborhood to find someone who might have seen her, and you stay here and call your grandma’s friends.”

  “Okay, yeah. That’s good.” I grab my phone and walk out to the porch with him. I follow Ryan to the street so I can see where he’s going. Then I call Rose first. She’s not home, so I leave a message for her. I lower the phone, and my hand freezes. I don’t know any of Grandma’s other friends’ numbers. I consider calling 911 but decide to wait.

  Instead, I race after Ryan. He turned the corner, and I can no longer see him. I catch up to him, and he shrugs, saying he hasn’t seen anyone outside to talk to. He asks if I know which neighbors Grandma is friendly with, but I don’t. We turn around and walk back down Grandma’s street on the opposite side. Ryan asks a man watering his plants if he’s seen my grandma or an older lady walking around, but he hasn’t. We continue around the corner and up the next street, both of our eyes searching every inch of the neighborhood.

  Sweat pours down my back, and my heart still pounds. Maybe we should call the police. I open my mouth to suggest this, but my voice freezes when I see a dark-haired woman sitting in a chair in the front lawn of a one-story house that looks like Grandma’s. I halt and blink hard to make sure I’m not hallucinating. I’m not. It’s Grandma.

  I race across the street and slow when I reach the tiny white gate. Grandma sits in someone’s white lawn chair, tears streaming down her face.

  “Grandma!” I rush over to her.

  She doesn’t say anything but clutches me as I lean down to hug her. Her body trembles.

  “Grandma, are you okay?” I let go and hold her by the shoulders.

  She nods, but doesn’t speak. “Are you hurt?” I scan her from head to toe.

  “No.” Her tiny voice squeaks. She looks so old in this moment.

  “Grandma, what happened?” I kneel in front of her while also peering through the window behind her. It doesn’t appear that anyone is home at this house.

  She sniffles a little, and I hold and rub her hands to help her calm down.

  “I don’t know,” she says with closed eyes. “I don’t know.”

  I rub her back. “It’s okay. I’m here now.” Suddenly a queasiness replaces the fear inside me. The hot dog and pie churn in my stomach as reminders that I left her alone and this is all my fault.

  Ryan approaches slowly, and I ask, “Hey, can you help me get her home?”

  “Of course.”

  “Grandma, we’re going to go home now, okay? Will you let us walk you home?” I pause. “This is Ryan,” I say, unsure if she remembers.

  Her eyes blink in recognition. I rise and gently lift her arm. Ryan steps in, and we slowly ease her out of the chair and walk her out to the sidewalk. We take it slowly, and she lets Ryan hold her arm as I rub her back. Eventually she calms down enough to tell us what happened. She was out of breadcrumbs and needed to go to the store. She forgot she didn’t
drive until she was out to the driveway, and then she forgot why she was standing there. She checked the mailbox—thinking that was it—but got herself turned around and couldn’t find the house. So she wandered around until she found a house that had chairs like hers. The door was locked and she didn’t have a key, so she just sat outside. Slowly she realized it wasn’t her house, but she didn’t know where she was.

  We get her back home, and she lies down for a nap. Ryan helps me clean the kitchen, and I can’t stop shaking my head as I return some spice jars to the pantry.

  “What?” he asks. “You’re shaking your head.”

  “I don’t get it.” I close the pantry door and face him. “We saw the doctor and got her the nurse on a consistent basis. I made a plan to fix it, and everything was going fine. But it still wasn’t enough.”

  “You know, I found out my great aunt had dementia. My mom said a lot of the same things happened to her. You can’t control it. It’s sort of like life, I guess.”

  I shrug. “Maybe you’re right. But still, I let her down. Either my plan wasn’t good enough or it’s that I wasn’t here.”

  Ryan pulls me in for a hug. “Don’t beat yourself up. It’s fine, and she’s okay.”

  I allow him to console me for a moment, then I release and walk to the counter to clean up the cutting board.

  “Now this guy,” Ryan says. I look over, and he’s holding the chicken. “This guy is definitely not fine. He’s a goner.” He waves a chicken leg at me, and a little light breaks through all my guilt and worry and sadness.

  When the kitchen is clean, we sit on the couch and tomorrow’s race crashes into my thoughts.

  Ryan reads the wince on my face. “What’s wrong?”

  “I have a half-marathon tomorrow.” I bury my hands in my head.

  “Don’t run.”

  “I have to,” I say to the floor.

  “What do you mean you have to? Just skip it.”

  I sigh and raise my head. “I can’t skip it.”

  “Why not?” His eyebrows furrow.

  I’m so tired that I don’t even have the energy to lie. “I can’t skip it because I’m trying to run my mom’s last four half-marathons to complete her goal of fifty half-marathons by the time she’s fifty. She would have turned fifty on June third.”

  “So that’s what the running is all about,” he says.

  “Yep.”

  “You know, I never bought the ‘I want a challenge’ reason.” He shakes his head at me.

  “I know. I’m sorry I lied. It’s just that I haven’t told anyone. Well, Mari, but no one else. Not even my grandma knows. It’s like I wanted it to be a secret between my mom and me.”

  He nods. “I get it.”

  “There’s more.” I just want to get it all out, so I proceed to tell him all about my dad’s dream to take us to his childhood home in Corfu and Connor’s dream to attend Ohio State. I explain the job and my obsession over the OSU application and tell him all about the moment I decided to do all of this.

  When I’m done, I lean back on the couch. I feel like some of the rocks in my pockets that have been pulling me underwater have disappeared, like I’ve gotten a little gasp of fresh air. Ryan pulls me into him, and his strong arms draw me in. In this moment, it’s as if everything that’s been tugging at me has let go. Everything is still, and I feel safe. But this idea of safety also sends my thoughts drifting back to Grandma.

  “It doesn’t matter anyway about the race.” I break the silence. “Because I can’t leave Grandma tomorrow. Even with Cherise coming in the morning, I should be here with her.”

  “I’ll come and check on her if you want. I don’t have practice until the afternoon. I could play a few games with her on the iPad.” I look at him, and he winks. I smile and continue to stare into the blue eyes of this perfect boy who would play games with my grandma. He leans over and kisses me gently on the lips. My head falls onto his chest, and we stay this way for a while.

  Eventually Ryan sits up, bringing me with him. “Why don’t you take a shower to help you relax, and I’ll get some food. I’ll get that Italian takeout your grandma likes so if she wakes up, she can eat with us.”

  I notice the time on the cable box. “It’s 7:00 p.m. already? Ugh, you should go. I’ve taken too much of your time. I’m sorry.”

  “Not at all, Loukas. I love being here.” He smiles at me. “Even for things like this. Especially for things like this.” He stands and pulls me up. “Trust me. Take a shower, and I’ll be right back.” He leans down and kisses me again, this one lasting a little longer. And even after he leaves, the soft touch of his lips on mine and the warmth of his arms wrapped around me lingers, keeping the heaviness at bay at least for a little longer.

  Chapter 16

  This race is a disaster before it even begins. I hardly slept, still beating myself up for not being there for Grandma. When my alarm blares at 4:30 a.m., I slam on the snooze button and oversleep. I make it to the race and nearly miss the last bus to the start line. I’ve forgotten my water bottle, and my legs hurt already. Once we set off, I know it’s a bad sign when I check my watch and see I’ve only run half a mile and want to quit.

  Fatigue and mental defeat set in at Mile 3, and I start mixing a little walking in with my running. I would probably give up except I see Ryan at Mile 4 cheering me on with his sign and a goofy grin. It gives me a boost, but it doesn’t last long. Soon the weight of my regret and self-loathing is back on my shoulders, pushing me down like a giant hand. As I run through the city streets and tree-lined neighborhoods, I feel Grandma’s trembling and see her tear-stained face plastered like a billboard in my mind. It’s nearly impossible to run with all of this emotional baggage.

  At the halfway point, I’ve convinced myself to quit; I don’t have it in me. But when I see Ryan and walk over to tell him, he gives me a pep talk that convinces me to stick with it. Among his convincing arguments are that I’m already halfway done, this will get me one step closer to my mom’s goal, and he drove by my house on his way here and saw my grandma and Cherise on the front porch drinking coffee. Plus, there’s his smile.

  So I continue on and survive to the finish line, with Ryan popping up at nearly every mile giving me a surge of energy to keep me going. It’s not a great finish time at all, but I ran more than I walked, so I guess it counts.

  I rush home, and Grandma is fine, playing cards with Cherise. And she’s fine for the next couple of weeks, slowly coming back to her regular self. This allows me to focus on the big news at school: the basketball team is expected to win the CIF championship this year. It’s all over school, and it’s all anyone talks about. Hallways are plastered with black-and-gold posters advertising the games and ones with glitter paint celebrating each of the players. We had an assembly last week before the first-round game, and there’s a noontime rally going on right now in advance of today’s game. Last year, they came up one win short of a state championship, and no one is going to let that happen again.

  Ryan is on the outdoor stage today at lunch asking for all the students to come out and support the team tonight. It’s going to be a tough crowd in a hostile gym, and they’ll need all of our cheers. The students erupt, and the cheerleaders jump around him and shake their shiny pom-poms. Even from across the quad, I am dazzled by his energy.

  Mari nails me on the cheek with a pretzel. “Ow! What?” I turn my head in her direction.

  “I asked you a question. Like three times.”

  “I didn’t hear you,” I explain.

  “What, were you still daydreaming about your smooch with Prince Hottie?” she teases.

  On his way to the rally, Ryan stopped by to say hi, and he kissed me when he left. I guess the word is out about Ryan and me—that we’re “dating” or whatever. I’m starting to get the dirty looks from some girls and the wide-eyed awe from others when Ryan and I hold hands in the hallway or when he kisses me goodbye.

  “No, I was watching the rally,” I protest. “What
did you ask?”

  “I asked if you want to go to the game straight from school since it starts at five. We could go to Starbucks on our way or something.”

  I know we need to get there early, but I should probably go home first. “I need to check on my grandma before I go. Can you pick me up around four thirty?”

  “Fine with me, but you probably won’t get to see Boy Wonder warm-up.” She makes googly eyes at me.

  I grab the pretzel and nail her with it. “Ha, ha, ha.”

  We continue watching the rally until the bell rings. On my way to fifth period, I already feel badly for Mrs. Hamilton. If it’s anything like last week, very few will be paying attention to her. People will be texting plans, and this time, they’ll probably be Googling directions. I silently vow to participate in class today.

  Thank goodness Mari has a small car that we can squeeze into an empty space on a side street around the corner from the school. It’s the only parking available by the time we arrive at the game. The gym is packed, and the crowd screams as the players are being introduced. There is no more space left in the visitor section, so we have to wedge ourselves into a tiny spot in the home team section. Thankfully, neither of us wore any Union High gear. In fact, my green I Love Ireland shirt and Mari’s black hoodie make us look like we belong to the other school anyway.

  Shouts and cheers bounce from one side of the bleachers to the other as the score goes back and forth. Their fans yell all sorts of things at our players, especially Ryan. I can’t hear them clearly, but they don’t sound like compliments. In the third quarter, though, Union starts to pull away as Ryan finally starts making his shots. As he scores more points, the students at the edge of the section near us begin the name-calling. Now that it’s closer to us, I can hear what they’re saying. They aren’t just calling out the standard “you suck” and “loser” comments. The students shout “zebra” and “chonky” and “half-breed” at Ryan. It makes me mad, but if Ryan hears it, it only motivates him because he scores almost all our points in the second half. Union wins by ten points.